


Every Time It Rains

by kawaii5lyfe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, M/M, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Pining, Self-Denial, Slow Build, Unrequited Love, for plot purposes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 12:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17284514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaii5lyfe/pseuds/kawaii5lyfe
Summary: Common sense might have told Akaashi that it wasn’t a good idea to try and form a relationship out of a rebound hook up. Common sense also might have told him there could be irreparable consequences to more than just his friendships if he pursued it. Akaashi might have listened to common sense if he wasn’t in so deep.





	1. In The Shadow of Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This another one of those fics I started and had big ideas for but then abandoned for other things. What can I say? I have ADD.

It had all started like a long brewing rain storm. Moods dark like storm clouds looming low. A cry of frustration, of betrayal, of agony ripping through the silence more ominous than rumbling thunder. Emotions falling tentatively like the first few heavy drops of rain before falling with the intent to wash everything away. Tears fall and rise like Alice’s floodwaters, filling the mouths of innocent bystanders and perpetrators alike. If Akaashi Keiji knew then what he had known now he would have picked drowning over trying to shift the currents.

The April morning sky was mostly cloudy. Akaashi thought it was a shame since it seemed to mute the colors of the sakura blossoms swaying gently in the breeze. He idly rubbed his thumb over the hand warmer heating his palm feeling the chill of spring press in through his jacket. The constant din of conversation mixed with the sounds of street traffic barely registered in his ears at this point. Akaashi could appreciate the beauty of sakura blossoms, but he could never understand the appeal of hanami. A particular strong breeze tugged petals free and an eerie swell of a shared awe filled gasp rose from the spectators crammed together. He blinked slowly as he watched the cascade of delicate white and pastel pink being swept away by the wind. It wasn’t that he didn’t think the trees were beautiful. If asked Akaashi would admit that it was romantic even, maybe, if he squinted. What he  _ really _ disliked about hanami was--.

“You’re sighing again.”

The lilt to her voice was meant to be teasing, Akaashi surmised, but he could tell there was an accusation hidden there. He turned his head, eyes sliding from the dancing blossoms to chocolate pools.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri-chan.” said Akaashi.

It had been common knowledge for sometime that dating wasn’t something Akaashi had thought seriously about. He met Yuuri in junior high, and he immediately thought she was beautiful. It was merely an observation since he found her beautiful in the same way he found Rococo era paintings or pure, uninterrupted blue skies beautiful. Conversation came easy with Yuuri. She wasn’t deterred by his impassive exterior, and Akaashi found that her bubbly laugh was added to his list of favorite sounds. Through their idle conversations Akaashi learned that she was on the swim team, her favorite tea was lavender Earl Grey, and she had a shiba inu named Koromaru. Yuuri came to his games, claiming that she was curious to see a functional team and not some fumbling mess like in gym class. Akaashi found himself working a little harder than usual when she was in the stands. 

Akaashi hated the humidity of indoor swimming pools. They made him feel claustrophobic and sticky, the smell of chlorine making his head hurt. He endured it because watching Yuuri’s limbs, columns of lean muscle that cut through the water with speed, fascinated Akaashi. She wasn’t the fastest swimmer on her team, but she had the most endurance. Watching Yuuri made Akaashi tingle from head to toe, a giddiness coursing through his veins that made him want to shout. He didn’t. Akaashi liked her. She was easygoing, and trusting, and encouraging and had a sunny disposition.

“No, it’s okay.” Yuuri replied, searching his face for a moment before offering a small smile with a slight shake of her head. “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

She was nothing like this.

Akaashi tilted his head a fraction his gaze moving from hers to watch a petal drift onto her ebony hair. “There isn’t anything you need to apologize for.”

Yuuri pressed her side against his and linked her arm around his. Akaashi hugged it closer against his body, and Yuuri’s smile widened a fraction at the simple gesture.

“I asked you to come with me even though I knew you found hanami annoying.” her voice was soft, her eyes dropping to her gloved fingers curled at his elbow.

Akaashi stayed silent as he lifted a hand to gently pluck the petal from her hair. His chest felt heavy with emotions he couldn’t quite place. It felt a little bit like guilt mixed with something nameless and acidic. It was a feeling that wormed its way into his heart after Yuuri announced she was quitting the swim team. It was a feeling that slowly began to fester when she started missing his games. Akaashi dipped his head down and closed his eyes as he pressed a lingering kiss into her hair. The sweet scents of her shampoo tingled his senses. Strawberry, vanilla, almond. She must have switched it again, Akaashi mused.

“I’m happy to be here with you.” He spoke against her hair. It wasn’t a lie.

They had started dating the previous year after most of the cherry blossoms had withered away. Yuuri had lamented about not being able to confess her feelings beneath a shower of pink petals, and that was when Akaashi told her he thought it was an annoying cliche. She looked at him like he had slapped her. It was crushing and made the backs of his eyes burn. It was a sensation that he was becoming begrudgingly acquainted with the last few months.

Akaashi traced his fingers along the gentle lines of her jaw, tucking his index finger beneath her chin to lift her face. Her cheeks were stained a bright pink from more than just the blush she used to tint them, gaze expectant as she looked into his eyes. His brow creased at a sudden bark of drunken laughter. This.  _ This _ was why he didn’t see the appeal of hanami. Why anyone needed an excuse to be a drunk asshole in public to look at  _ fucking flowers _ was beyond Akaashi. He had to force his face back into neutrality at the flash of annoyance in Yuuri’s eyes. She wasn’t annoyed for the same reasons he was, and that sharp feeling from before swelled in his chest once more. Akaashi dipped his head, eyes fluttering closed.

“Hey hey hey! Akaashi!”

The sigh that ghosted over his lips made his eyes sting. Yuuri’s hand dropped from his arm and she shoved it in her coat pocket. Akaashi wanted to apologize but he could only swallow around the words as she turned her head and pointed stared at the blossoms. It wasn’t always like this, he thought, tilting his head back and watched Bokuto swoop over. His track jacket was unzipped despite that it wasn’t at all that warm, and some innate instinct deep inside Akaashi told him he would need to catch that jacket soon.

“Hello Bokuto-san.” Akaashi raised a hand in greeting. He ignored the way Yuuri shifted away from him just a fraction.

“Yukie brought sakura mochi and it’s the  _ dopest shit  _ I’ve ever tasted!” Bokuto all but shouted, the grin splitting his face was toothy and wide. “She said it isn’t homemade but you can tell. Can you believe it?! Yukie made  _ homemade _ sakura mochi for us I’m  _ gonna die _ ! You need to come over and eat yours before Konoha eats it all- Ah, hi Yuuri.”

Akaashi blinked, noting the way Bokuto’s smile faltered just a fraction and his gold eyes lost their glimmer when they fell on his companion. It wasn’t anything new but it always puzzled Akaashi how Bokuto seemed to deflate just a bit when it came to Yuuri. Akaashi had asked him once point blank if he liked her only to regret it after Bokuto’s flustered outburst of how he’d never try to take Akaashi’s girl and ‘ _ oh my god Akaashi who do you think I am’ _ . Bokuto misunderstood as he often does, but after Akaashi calmly corrected him Bokuto was oddly silent for a moment. He looked pensive before he gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and told Akaashi he thought she was a ‘cool chick’. It felt like a cop out answer but Akaashi didn’t push it.

Yuuri gave a polite greeting fishing her phone from her pocket. Akaashi flicked his gaze to the screen and dread pooled in his stomach like a stone. He recognized the group chat of the girls’ swim team, and it took a considerable amount of effort not to sigh. He’d no doubt be cornered by Yuuri’s former teammates later to remind him of what a terrible boyfriend he was for not telling Bokuto to quote, “fuck off”, end quote. This was also a new trend in their relationship Akaashi had started to reluctantly accept.

But Bokuto was his volleyball team captain and a close friend, and Akaashi would never tell him to ‘fuck off’.

Akaashi would stand fast against the poor, so called advice, from Yuuri’s old teammates. He would continue to struggle to balance their relationship and volleyball. He would keep telling himself it only hurt so much because he loved her, and that whatever this dark thing that had settled around them like a thick fog would past in time. Though, that felt like telling a lie.   
  


“I think I saw Nekoma here too!” Bokuto’s voice pierced through the thoughts that threatened to spiral out of control inside Akaashi’s mind. “Kuroo said the team was going to hanami but he couldn’t remember which park but I totally saw Lev flailing around over there. We should hook up with them!”

Bokuto was gesticulating in a way that if Akaashi didn’t know better was meant to be imitating what Lev looked like. But he did know better and he felt the corners of his mouth twitch up. It would be a nice distraction from the unease knotting his stomach, and Akaashi thought it would be nice to finally introduce Yuuri to his rivals and friends at Nekoma.

“Yuuri-chan,” Akaashi started, returning his attention to the silent girl besides him. “Would you like-”   
  
“You go ahead, Keiji-chan.” her tone was clipped, the smile she gave him seemed strained. She gestured with her phone. “Himari-chan said she and the others wanted to meet up.”

Heart sinking, Akaashi nodded in understanding. The desire to reach out and pull her into a tight hug makes his fingers twitch. He wants to kiss her and apologize, but he can’t quite put his finger on what he wants to apologize for. All Akaashi knows is that there are several things niggling at his conscious and he doesn’t want to spend the time right now to try and decipher them. So instead he tells her he’ll call her later and ignores the scathing look she gives Bokuto before walking away. There’s no hug. No kiss. No affirmation that she even heard him over her clear resentment of Akaashi putting Bokuto, and ultimately, volleyball before her.

Akaashi watches her retreating back before he loses sight of her in the crowd. Luckily Bokuto seemed oblivious to the tension that just whipped around them, like it was a tangible thing that stirred the sakura petals and not the wind. He only continued to grin and babble when Akaashi finally fell into step besides him as they began to weave their way to where their team was waiting. He tries not to think about what Monday will bring, what arguments he’ll need to endure, how his brain is trying to out win his heart. Akaashi tucks his chin into his scarf to hide the frown pulling at his lips. He forces himself to focus on Bokuto’s bright eyes, on his teammates waving him over, thankful for the distraction from his thoughts about his crumbling relationship with Yuuri. 

  
But it doesn’t stop a voice from the back of his mind screaming that the appropriate course of action is right in front of him if he’d only just acknowledge it  _ and it hurts _ .


	2. I’m Gonna Be Fine (Maybe Not Tonight)

It was early evening, and the temperature seemed to drop with each lazy, large drop of rain that sprinkled the city. It took some difficulty to detach from both the Nekoma and Fukudourani volleyball teams, but after catching Bokuto’s jacket 3 times and several awkward conversations about why he wasn’t wearing his team’s colors Akaashi couldn’t have been more glad to be standing on a crowded street corner in Ikebukuro. Well, that wasn’t exactly a whole truth but it was far better than hanami and the bitter memory of how he parted from his girlfriend, and how it was sure going to blow up in his face later. Tugging his scarf over his mouth Akaashi tired to push that thought to the back of his mind.

“We should go to a cafe.”

Akaashi slid his eyes from the traffic light to Kenma when he spoke. The setter was pressed between himself and Kuroo with his hood pulled up, and he kept wiping away the droplets from his phone screen. It had become a sort of unspoken rule that whenever the four of them were out together Kenma would stick to Akaashi for security. It wasn’t like Kuroo wasn’t a considerate, or accountable friend but whenever he and Bokuto were together there was a  _ very _ likely chance that the two of them were going to get caught up in some weird shenanigans. Despite being the youngest, Akaashi felt like the chaperon. Maybe he was. Akaashi resisted the urge to sigh.

“Something warm would be nice.” said Akaashi, returning his gaze to the glowing light.

Kuroo blew a raspberry. “He probably just wants to charge his phone.”

If Akaashi didn’t know Kuroo he might have thought he was being pointlessly sardonic, but he did know Kuroo and he didn’t have to look to know there was a playful grin on his face as he teased his childhood friend. Akaashi considered him from the corner of his eye. Artificial colors from the glowing neon signs highlighted the sharp angles of Kuroo’s face, and reflected against the droplets of water in his hair. Akaashi looked away when Kuroo tugged the hood of his jacket up.

“That too…” Kenma replied, pressing closer to Akaashi as their small group was jostled by the throng of people also crossing the street.

“We should go to Animate and see if they switched the theme to Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure yet!” Bokuto slung his arm around Akaashi’s shoulder as he leaned over to shout excitedly at Kuroo.

Akaashi grimaced both at the volume of Bokuto’s voice, and the surge of secondhand embarrassment that washed over him. It was rare for Bokuto to pay attention to anime, or much of anything outside of volleyball, but once he found a series he liked he became  _ insufferable _ about it. Before JoJo it was Guilty Crown, and before that was Digimon Fusion. Thankfully Akaashi wasn’t around to witness the Digimon phase but according to Sarukui it was ‘real bad’. Kenma made a soft disgusted noise besides him, and Kuroo’s groan was more like an irritated yell.

“Hello no! I’m not going to an anime cafe, you otaku trash!”

“What’d you call me?!” snapped Bokuto. He flung himself in front of Kuroo nearly tripping Akaashi and Kenma in the process. He stood with his hands on his hips, chest out and eyes glaring.

The grin that smeared across Kuroo’s face was provocative. “You heard me.”

A sharp canine could be seen from where Kuroo’s lip curled up and Akaashi gave it a brief appreciative glance. Kenma, phone forgotten, flicked his gaze between the two captains and Akaashi drew in a steady breath through his nose weighing his options. 

Bokuto could get pissed off and challenge Kuroo to some sort of stupid duel, likelihood 75%. Or, he would get surly and be unpleasant the rest of the evening, likelihood 25%. Chewing his bottom lip Akaashi debated if he should intervene now, to stop the train wreck before it could happen or see how Bokuto would handle it on his own. Akaashi took in the way Bokuto’s jaw was crossed, the warning signs of a pout about to twist his lips, and the small inkling of hope that his captain might hold it together crumbled as Kuroo leaned forward and spoke.

“Just because you’re trash doesn’t mean you can’t do great things. It’s called garbage  _ can _ not garbage  _ cannot _ .”

Kenma slapped a hand over his face with a groan, and Akaashi pressed his mouth into a firm line. Part of him wanted to laugh. A pretty large part actually. It had taken him sometime to get used to Kuroo’s brand of humor. On one hand it was a strange blend of brash yet innocent teasing meant to rankle someone’s nerves enough to get the reaction he wanted but never the intent to really hurt them. On the other hand he could be a complete idiot, so Akaashi never encouraged him by laughing out loud. 

Bokuto squinted at Kuroo, brows drawn low and his mouth open slightly as he considered him. “Bro. I can’t tell if that’s the best compliment you’ve ever given me or the worst insult.”

A second wave of secondhand embarrassment crashed over Akaashi and he wanted nothing more than to turn around and walk away. They were both idiots. Akaashi brought his gaze to Kenma as he let his hand fall to his side and was giving him a pleading look. A look that said ‘kill me’ or ‘please don’t leave me alone with these fools’.

“Would you like to get dessert, Kozume-san?” Akaashi pulled his scarf from his mouth so the question could be heard over Bokuto and Kuroo’s squawking.

There was a flash in the smaller boy’s eyes and the corners of Akaashi’s mouth tugged up. He debated if he should tell their companions or just leave them squabbling on the street corner. With a resignation he wished was forced he stepped forward and placed heavy hands on each of the taller boy’s shoulders.

“Bokuto-san, Pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san.” Akaashi spoke up, keeping his voice impassive.

Bukoto startled, head whipping around and looking at Akaashi like he’s never seen him before. Kuroo squinted at Akaashi, thin brows creasing severely.

“Pain in the…?” Kuroo mumbled, and Akaashi swore he could hear the gears of Kuroo’s mind turning trying to process what he just heard.

“Kozume-san and I are going. Please feel free to come with us, otherwise be safe in Akihabara.”

Without bothering to wait for either of their responses Akaashi slipped his hands back into the pockets of his jacket, and walked away with Kenma at his side. Akaashi ignored Bokuto whining his name like a dejected child but he couldn’t hide the smirk from Kuroo calling him a ‘punk ass kid’ even if he wanted to.

They ended up at a cafe near the train station and were lucky enough to get the last remaining table. The heat from the tea latte in Akaashi’s mug stung his palms pressed around it. It wasn’t unpleasant, and he closed his eyes as the gentle notes of vanilla, bergamot and rose were carried up to his noise by the steam. Warmth slowly ate away at the cold that settled against his bones, and he sighed contently as he relaxed into his chair. Despite the crowd the noise in the cafe was a respectable buzz of conversations, faint music and the frequent hum of the espresso machine. It was an oddly relaxing atmosphere and Akaashi began to understand why people came to cafes to read or study.

“So, Akaashi.” Kuroo’s voice dripped with amusement. Akaashi opened his eyes, keeping his face neutral as he turned his attention across the table where Kuroo was lounging comfortably in his seat. “Did I hear correctly that you were on a  _ date _ today?”

A bitter taste burned the back of Akaashi’s throat, and he lifted his mug to his lips to take a drink to wash it away. He had almost forgotten which made guilt twist in his stomach.

When he first joined his teammates, and Nekoma later, Akaashi spent most of the time trying not to check his phone. He was concerned that perhaps Yuuri’s old teammates would be blowing up his phone demanding he return to his original scheduled hanami activity. There were a few times where he swore he felt it vibrating but was disappointed (relieved?) that it was merely a phantom vibration, so he stopped checking. His teammates had teased him about being cliche and he thought that would have been the end of it. Akaashi really shouldn’t have been surprised that Kuroo asked since he’s never seen Akaashi wear anything other than his jersey or gym uniform. Not like skinny jeans and lace-up ankle boots was anything out of the ordinary, but he did suppose he looked definitely more polished compared to the rest of his squad sporting their team’s tracksuits.

“I was, yes.” Akaashi replied simply, setting his mug back on the table.

Akaashi fished his phone from his pocket while Kuroo made an interested sound that clearly implied he wanted Akaashi to divulge more information about it. He blinked at the screen; no texts from Yuuri or her friends but it didn’t make him feel better about it.

Kuroo leaned his elbow on the table, propping his chin in his hand as he watched Akaashi. He looked smug and Akaashi couldn’t figure out why for the life of him.

“Is she in your year?” Kuroo’s smirk grew as he asked.

_ Ah. _ Akaashi glance up at Kuroo as he tapped open his photo app.

“Yes.” replied Akaashi, gaze dropping back to his phone.

It never occurred to Akaashi to show pictures of Yuuri to, well, anyone. Before and after practice matches everyone was wired on adrenaline that no one was thinking about anything else besides volleyball. When the four of them were out together like they were now, the only relationships discussed were Kuroo’s or none at all. Akaashi could feel Kuroo’s gaze on him as he scrolled through his photo albums. Every photo on his phone was filtered into an appropriate album, so that when he wanted to share them he didn’t have to scroll endlessly to find it. Volley. Nature. Dogs. Food. Yuuri-chan. The album was full of photos from the first few months of their relationship, from when they still laughed and Yuuri smiled openly. The reminders of how sweet it all used to be felt sharp in Akaashi’s chest. 

He selected a picture from their class trip to Kyoto the previous year. She was tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, bright eyes curved with her smile with the bamboo forest behind her. Akaashi felt bitterly sentimental looking at it, so he offered his phone to Kuroo. He briefly wondered what Kuroo was expecting from the way his brows shot up and his eyes grew wide in an expression of stunned surprise.

“ _ Holy _ crap! Like, I knew she was going to be pretty, because it’s you, but  _ damn _ !” The words tumbled out of Kuroo’s mouth around an amused chuckle.

Akaashi glanced at Bokuto who clicked his tongue at Kuroo’s comment. He had his arms crossed on the table and staring into his drink like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Akaashi frowned as he withdrew his phone, tilting it a little to give Kenma a look. Bokuto was sulking for whatever reason, and Akaashi would have given it more consideration if Kuroo’s words weren’t buzzing around his skull. How did he have anything to do with how Yuuri’s beauty was perceived?

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi said while sliding his gaze back to Kuroo.

Kuroo’s eyes moved over Akaashi as if he were sizing him up. There was a glint in his eye that Akaashi immediately interpreted as devious especially accompanied by the smirk tugging at his lips. Kuroo was effortlessly handsome. It wasn’t a particularly new, or shocking revelation to Akaashi. Even with his somehow fashionable bedhead, and his goofy laughs Kuroo was attractive like the hero of a Romanticism painting. He had nice teeth, and hands that looked like Michelangelo had used them as references for his own works of art. Akaashi traced the rim of his mug with idle fingers. His observations were just that. Observations. Facts. Kittens were cute, volleyball was fun, and Kuroo Tetsurou was handsome.

“Because of your,” Kuroo explained, gesturing at Akaashi with his free hand. “ _ Aesthetic. _ ”

Bokuto choked on his drink, his body shaking with silent laughter as he grabbed Kuroo’s shoulder for stability. Panic made Akaashi’s heart pick up speed as he watched tears form in Bokuto’s eyes. Kuroo was snickering as Bokuto shook his shoulder, his other hand pressed to his mouth in what Akaashi could only assume was to stop from spitting his drink all over him and Kenma. That is, if he didn’t choke or have it come out his nose first.

“Oh my  _ GOD _ !” Bokuto gasped after finally be able to swallow. His voice was loud and several patrons glanced over at them curiously. “Kuroo! Did you just call Akaashi  _ pretty?! _ ”

“I sure did!” Kuroo snorted before he erupted into a fit of laughing hysterics with Bokuto.

Phone still held in his right hand Akaashi felt frozen in his seat. He knows he’s frowning, eyebrows pinched and pulled low as he stares at the pair clutching each other amidst their laughing fit. He slowly turned his head to look at the setter besides him who was regarding him curiously, amber eyes skirting over his features.

“Pretty.” agreed Kenma, returning his attention to the nearly devoured slice of apple pie in front of him.

This single word triggered a fresh chorus of barking laughter and Akaashi returned his attention across the table. Pretty wasn’t a word Akaashi had heard to describe his outward appearance before, but he feels like he should have expected it. He’s been described as mysterious or an ikemen before, having to deny his fair share of idol scouts nearly every time he walks through downtown Tokyo. Akaashi didn’t consider himself vain, but he could definitely see how the other boys might consider his fairer features as ‘pretty’. It didn’t bother him, though his severe expression might say otherwise. What  _ did _ bother him were the stares from the other cafe patrons directed towards their noisy table.

“Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san, you’re making a scene.” Akaashi’s tone was sharp, making his exasperation clear. “Please calm down.”

Kuroo ran a hand back through his mess of raven hair, cheeks flushed and eyes glittering with unshed tears of mirth as he returned to lounging in his seat. Akaashi flicked his gaze to Bokuto who wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, face equally flushed as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth to help stifle the giggles still tumbling from his mouth. The look in his eyes made Akaashi feel uncomfortable. Well, maybe not uncomfortable but self conscious. Mingled with the amusement in Bokuto’s gaze was admiration and something softer Akaashi wished he could ignore. He forced his expression back into neutrality. There are times when Bokuto is able to be as indiscernible as a black cat in the dark, and other times he was quite reader friendly.

A confession was emanate. Akaashi had half expected it the previous year when Bokuto came out to him, but he quickly reprimanded himself for such a thought. The reason why he was able to synch so well with Bokuto had nothing to do with romance. The fact that Bokuto had chosen to come out to Akaashi first was only proof of his trust in his kohai. That was what Akaashi had told himself when he began to notice the lingering glances, the featherlight almost escable touches to the back of his wrist when they walked side-by-side. He had to ignore it. There was too much at stake if he allowed himself to think too deeply about it.

“Sorry not sorry,” Kuroo snicker, redirecting Akaashi’s attention. “But I stand by my statement.”

Akaashi blinked.

“I don’t mind being pretty if neither of you mind being a pain in the ass or a simpleton.” he deadpanned before closing his eyes as he brought his mug to his lips and took a slow sip.

“Wow, savage.” Akaashi could hear the smirk in Kenma’s voice.

“Excuse you…?”

“AKAAAAASHIIIII~! You’re not suppose to say that!”

The smile Akaashi hid behind his mug was genuine. The rest of their time at the cafe was thankfully devoid of any more raucous outbursts of laughter, and the other patrons seemingly tuning out Bokuto’s loud quips so their table wasn’t earning any more judgemental stares. Their conversation switched from volleyball to nutrition to the latest reanimation of Berserk. Akaashi was surprised that Kuroo was a fan of the series, and watched with interest as he argued with Bokuto about how the original 1997 anime was better regardless of how much was edited out from the manga. At one point Akaashi switched spots with Kenma so that he was able to charge his phone and keep scrolling through his twitter feed. Kuroo was lamenting about something about the current arc of the manga being stuck on a boat when Kenma stood abruptly and startled everyone at their table into silence.

“Need to go.” Kenma’s wide eyes were glued to his phone screen still in his hands.

“What? What is it?” Kuroo rose, concern straining his features as he stared at his childhood friend.

Akaashi and Bokuto shared a look of confused trepidation as Kenma hastily unplugged his phone.

“Pokemon Mega Store.” Kenma said simply, glancing between the others as they jointly exhaled an exasperated sigh.

“You can’t just do that, Kenma!” Kuroo scolded and grabbed his chest after they exited the cafe. “Gave me a freakin’ heart attack!

“If it was an emergency I would have just told you.” replied Kenma, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Akaashi smiled behind his scarf sliding his gaze over Kenma’s head to Kuroo. It had stopped raining while they were in the cafe and Kuroo adjusted his hood to lay across the back of his neck. His brows were pinched with his scowl and he clicked his tongue.

“Yeah, just like that time you told me Momose-kun asked about me.” he sounded sullen.

“That wasn’t an emergency.”

“Any time a second year girl talks to you about me  _ is _ an emergency!”

As their group entered the mall Akaashi could see the faint pink dusting Kuroo’s cheekbones under the fluorescent lights. The taller boy was pointedly looking ahead, his bottom lip protruding slightly from his pout.

“Oya oya?” Bokuto grinned, eyebrows waggling as he nudged Kuroo with his elbow. “Emergency, huh? Having a dry spell are we?

Kuroo’s shoulders hunched, his expression becoming surly. “Shut it.”

“All the second year girls are scared of him because he goes all the way.” Kenma stated a matter of factly as they mounted the escalator. “They keep asking me if it’s true. It’s annoying.”

Kuroo sputtered, face flushing the same color as his track jacket as he slung his arms around the shorter boy to pull him into a headlock.

“KENMA! You can’t just  _ say shit  _ like that!”

“Ugh, let go!”

“Slut~!” Bokuto singsonged.

Sex wasn’t necessarily a taboo topic with the four of them, well, at least between Kuroo and Bokuto to Akaashi’s knowledge. He figured Kenma was an innocent bystander that got swept up in the sordid details of Kuroo’s relationships and reluctantly endured it. Akaashi murmured apologies to the people around them as they dismounted the escalator, shooting Kuroo and Bokuto scathing glares as they took turns punching each other in the arm while they continued to squabble. Despite their closeness, sex wasn’t a topic that was ever broached between Akaashi and Bokuto when it was just the two of them. He flicked his thumbs against his forefingers, glancing at the ace who squinted as Kuroo leaned over to whisper something to him. Akaashi honestly didn’t know how he would react if Bokuto suddenly started talking about sex with him. The thought made Akaashi avert his gaze, and his mouth suddenly felt parched.

It wasn’t exactly the topic itself that was stirring up feelings of anxiety for Akaashi. He glanced over at the third years after hearing Kenma scold them for “being gross”. They wore similar smirks, though Akaashi noted Bokuto’s ears were red. Akaashi had been suspicious of something more than platonic between Bokuto and Kuroo since their training camp the previous year. Bokuto often talked about the fellow captain being one of his best friends, how they’ve ‘been through a lot of shit’ together, and that no matter if they were rivals on the court he would always love Kuroo as a brother. If Bokuto were to tell Akaashi that he and Kuroo had been secretly seeing each other, he wouldn’t be surprised. Well, maybe a little since Kuroo dated girls quite frequently, but that was a small mystery Akaashi could solve if he pried into the dynamics of their relationship. Akaashi put his hands in his pockets as he his palms started to sweat. No, it wasn’t the topic of sex that made him feel hesitant, but maybe which side of the conversation he would be on. If Bokuto wanted to talk about his own experiences, Akaashi wouldn’t mind at all.

But if Bokuto wanted to talk to Akaashi about  _ his _ experiences, at this moment, he wasn’t sure if he could stomach it.

That strange feeling of not-quite-guilt suddenly flooded through Akaashi’s veins for the first time since hanami. He fisted his phone in his pocket and resisted pulling it out to see if he had any new texts from Yuuri or her old teammates. Maybe he should have messaged her when they were at the cafe to tell her he ordered her usual drink because he missed her to make her feel better. Maybe he should have told her they were near the official Animate store and asked if she wanted anything from that swimming anime she liked. Maybe he should ask her if he can come over. His heart hammered against his ribcage, dipping his chin into his scarf to hide his frown.

“Whoa, it’s packed!”

Bokuto’s voice tore Akaashi from his sudden onset of brooding. He slid his gaze from the floor to the Pokemon store that was buzzing with excited children, seasoned fans and tired looking parents. From the few times Akaashi had been to the store it always seemed busy but right now it was as Bokuto said; packed. The foursome stopped outside the store and starred in with wide eyes.

“New starter merch plus the hanami exclusive stuff.” Kenma mumbled as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Bokuto gasped and pointed into the store, eyes sparkling like a grade schooler. “Rowlet! Kenma, let’s go!”

“Yep.”

“Welp, you kids have fun~!” Kuroo chimed as he spun on his heel and walked away.

Akaashi’s gaze passed between Kuroo’s retreating back and Kenma clutching at Bokuto’s track jacket as they stepped into the store with the same determination that was usually reserved for the volleyball court. After a moment's hesitation Akaashi deduced that Kenma would be alright left with Bokuto and followed after Kuroo. Nekoma’s captain had his hands in his pockets, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned against the low wall overlooking the atrium. Akaashi loosened his scarf gently as he leaned besides Kuroo, their elbows barely touching when he returned his hand to his pocket.

“He’ll be fine, mom.” teased Kuroo.

Pressing his mouth into a firm line Akaashi exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes doing their best to track the odd pair milling around the store.

“If I’m the mom then what does that make you, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asked in measured tones.

Kuroo hummed in thought. “That cool uncle that shows up maybe three times a year and has a new tattoo each time and smokes cigarettes.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re going to be yakuza once you graduate?” it took a considerable amount of effort for Akaashi to keep his voice neutral. It wasn’t hard to imagine Kuroo with tattoos that spread over his shoulders to his chest, and after a moment Akaashi thought that it would suit him.

“Shit no, I’m not cut out for that!” Kuroo laughed.

“And Bokuto-san?” Akaashi glanced at Kuroo, noting the smile stretched across his face. “Who is he in our little family?”

Kuroo snorted. “He’s the opposite of a cool uncle. He’s more like the older son, maybe. Like the type that sorta has his shit together but still buys shounen jump and tries really hard to be friends with all his little brother’s friends.”

“Poor Kozume-san.” Akaashi sighed with a grimace.

The corners of his mouth tugged up in a small smile when Kuroo chortled. He turned his head to look up at the taller boy, mouth open to ask a question that quickly died in his throat. The flash of Kuroo’s tongue as he wetted his lips was distracting in of itself, but Akaashi felt helplessly at a loss of words as Kuroo parted his lips to tongue the tip of a canine. Akaashi closed his mouth and swallowed. His neck flushed as he stared at Kuroo’s mouth and the glide of his tongue over his teeth as he switched to the same tooth on the opposite side. His lips were thin and slightly chapped in the centers from where Akaashi assumed he must bite them. They looked dewy after being wetted, and Akaashi tried to narrow down the exact color they were. A shade warmer than a pale coral, maybe. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed against it, dragging his eyes up to Kuroo’s when he turned his head to look down at Akaashi.

His usual lidded eyes widened a fraction and it was then that Akaashi realized he had leaned into Kuroo’s space. How could he have not realized, especially how Kuroo’s arm radiated heat where it was pressed against his? Some innate stubbornness made Akaashi hold his ground and he returned the captain’s gaze with a forced poker-face. His pulse had quickened, and he hoped the flush of his neck hadn’t crept up his face. Kuroo recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing as he searched Akaashi’s gaze. The color of Kuroo’s eyes reminded Akaashi of the warmer shades of Baltic amber. There was no hostility in the intensity of his stare, but it was curious in its wordless probing. Through the corners of his vision Akaashi could see Kuroo’s arm shift as if he was about to remove his hand from his pocket but decided against it. Instinct moved Akaashi to tilt his face up when Kuroo’s gaze dropped to his mouth and dipped his head.

A passerby cleared their throat loudly and Kuroo’s eyes snapped up to Akaashi’s. He knew he was wearing the same puzzled expression as the taller boy; brows pinched over confused eyes and mouth pulled down into a frown. Akaashi broke their stare first. He turned his head and quickly scanned the store opposite for their companions suddenly feeling out of breath. Well that was… something. Akaashi wished he hadn’t loosened his scarf so that he could hide his flushed face in the soft wool. After spotting Bokuto and Kenma, the former of the two seeming to having a difficult time deciding between two charms, Akaashi felt a little more collected. At least, enough to think rationally about what just nearly transpired between he and Kuroo. There wasn’t a particular mood beforehand, no blatant flirting or gentle touches. Akaashi merely became distracted by Kuroo’s tongue probing at his own teeth, was appreciating his features he would any classic work of art. Perhaps in his appreciation he might have sent some signals and just innately reacted when Kuroo dropped his gaze to his mouth. Maybe in that moment Kuroo had been blinded by his -what was that word Kuroo used earlier?-  _ ah, aesthetic _ . Maybe Akaashi let himself get carried away with his critical assessment of Kuroo’s mouth. Blame it on instinct and hormones.

Akaashi felt Kuroo shift besides him and half expected the captain to move away. Ghosts of unasked questions burned at the back of Akaashi’s throat. He wanted to ask Kuroo how he interpreted what just happened, wanted to ask what was going through his mind when his gaze became analytical. Warmth spread up the side of his thigh, his hip, his shoulder. Akaashi bit the inside of his lip. Kuroo had pressed himself against his side.

“So,” Kuroo cleared his throat, and Akaashi flicked his gaze to see that he was also starring in the direction of their companions. “You left your totally romantic hanami date to hang out with us losers?”

It felt like ice water had been poured down Akaashi’s spine and he tensed. There was no way that Kuroo could not have noticed with how close they now stood besides each other.  _ Yuuri _ . Guilt gnawed at his insides making his heart feel heavy, and a little sick to his stomach. It only seemed natural that his first reaction should have been horror that he  _ almost _ kissed someone that was most definitely  _ not _ his girlfriend, but Akaashi found that he was more horrified that it wasn’t _. _ His jaw clenched painfully, fingernails biting in his palms from his hands forming tight fists in his pockets. A thread slowly unraveled from that lump of unnamable emotions that usually mingled with his guilt when it came to Yuuri. The almost kiss with Kuroo, the gentle lift of his chin with the expectation of firm lips meeting his felt more natural than any kiss that had passed between he and Yuuri. Akaashi swallowed audibly, blinking against the burn at the back of his eyes.

“I don’t think I would have had much of a choice in the end, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi flinched at how much difficulty he was having keeping his emotions out of his voice.

It was a struggle to keep his expression impassive but the crease between Akaashi’s brows was stubborn. Through the corners of his eye he could see that Kuroo was looking at him but this time Akaashi did not meet his gaze. He watched Bokuto and Kenma make their purchases, and he half expected Kuroo to say something about how he shouldn’t give into Bokuto’s selfishness. It was a broken record he heard enough from Konoha and Sarukui, anyway.

After a moment of silent consideration Kuroo responded, his tone soft. “You can talk to me, you know. I have my fair experience with…” he pauses to wave his hand around like he’s trying to grasp the word he’s looking for from the air. “Girl stuff.”

The corners of Akaashi’s mouth twitch. He felt very appreciative of Kuroo’s perceptiveness picking up that what Akaashi said had nothing to do with Bokuto. He doesn’t trust himself to look at the taller boy and he pushes off the low wall as Bokuto bounds over to them with Kenma trailing close behind.

“Thank you, Kuroo-san.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm multishipper trash but Akaashi/Kuroo is my actual fave~ Anyway, if this gets traction I might bring it back to life.


End file.
